Han and The Talkative
by Molkite
Summary: What happens when someone won't shut up? Han's about to find out!


This is my first work for about a year so please rip it to shreds, constructively!

Han stepped into the bustling town, the air was thick with smoke from many diverse tobaccos. Casually Han strode to a trading stall nearest to the Falcon's landing pad, trying not to inhale too much or draw any more attention to himself and Chewie. Of all the things he had learnt, trusting the locals was not one of them. Although deciding which species was local was harder than he imagined. There was little in the data stores to help either, Han was grateful that most of the species he could see, could speak common tongue. Or so he hoped anyway.

The falcon had landed on this planet to acquire supplies for it's next excursion to near the outer rim on orders of the republic. Luke stayed with the ship, the population of this planet was diverse, but consisted of immigrants, smugglers and even the odd bounty hunter. No place for someone such as Han. Luke knew this but did not intervene. The ship would also be safer should someone stay with it.

The shops and stalls around them were small and quite obviously designed for those of smaller stature than he or Chewie. Jawas scuttled around chattering to themselves, avoiding the light and the attention of others.

Han felt someone grab his arm suddenly and made to swing for them, Chewie caught his arm and a cheerful voice declared, "ah welcome, come I, do come in. I say what a lovely day we're having today. Now tell me young man what can I do for you? Maybe some parts for that lovely cruiser of yours?" Han was practically dragged into the small shop and was surrounded by spare parts which must've come from thousands of ships. The floor was barely visible under the clutter and the air no longer felt low from the tobacco, but from grease and fuel.

"I'm here for uh-"

"Now now, there's no need to stand in the doorway." The small alien pushed his way through the parts to his desk, which was also cluttered and piled high with spare parts and supplies. It was hard to see how he could physically get any further in. The small alien was just the right height for the shrunken town and resembled a smaller humanoid, only with much brighter skin and red eyes. Han couldn't decide whether this was from the atmosphere or was natural.

"No I'm good here. What we need are supplies, enough to get us to-"

"I know, you need this." His voice was calm and somewhat excited, not at all suited to his looks Han concluded.

Han felt himself go cross eyed as a small marble coloured rock was shoved into his face, Chewie growled behind him. "Ah it's very nice but not-"

"no… of course not stupid me, I don't know so many people come through here I sometimes lose the plot… now where could that have gone?"

"Sometimes? Look we're not here for engineering parts we really need-"

"Here!" Han nearly drew his Blaster. "Every ship needs one of these." The alien pushed everything from his desk and dropped the small droid onto the newly acquired space.

"What the hell?"

"It's one of the Galaxies oldest, but most efficient mechanical-"

"No no we don't need droids, we're here for-"

"I know I know. How about these? My greatest works." He pushed a scrap of paper into Hans hand.

Han read the hook line, ' A galaxy of stars in your own COCKPIT. A picture of two scantily clad Tw'lek dancers invaded the paper. "Er, as beautiful as they are I don't think their services are quite necessary." Blushing he handed the leaflet back.

"No… Okay then maybe one of these will suffice."

"Look. We don't need any of these broken down toys, we're here for-" This time Han wasn't interrupted.

"I've… I've worked so hard to maintain this place, to support my younglings…" The alien paused and sniffled, still stooped into a cupboard. "And people come in here judging me because of what I can afford to sell…" It was unclear through his reddened eyes whether or not he was crying.

Hans features softened, "Look we're not mocking you, it's a really great place… It's just that-"

" It's not good enough for you?" He stood to full height, which wasn't that tall and squared up to Han, one hand behind his back.

"Uh… No that's not what we meant is it Chewie?" Han began to step backwards slowly into his companion, hand ready on his weapon. The shopkeeper suddenly looked intense and intimidating.

"Good, than how about this?" Han nearly passed out as the Alien produced a small ration pack from behind him. "Suitable for all weathers!"

Based on my recent experiences in Wales where a shopkeeper accused me of drinking methilated spirits, when I needed them for my Duke Of Edinburgh Gold hike. He nearly made me cry until a teacher intervened! So payback time!


End file.
